


Bruce Banner Action Figures Don't Grow On Trees

by megster



Series: In These Small Hours [6]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megster/pseuds/megster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There seems to be a distinct lack of Bruce Banner action figures, although there's plenty of the Hulk. Darcy Lewis does not find this acceptable. Also, Darcy takes one of Tony's cars for a drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruce Banner Action Figures Don't Grow On Trees

One of the best things about her new job, Darcy thinks, is that she gets to accompany the Avengers to meetings with toy manufacturers. 

She fiddles with an Iron Man action figure, and jumps when it makes a zapping noise. 

“Hey,” Tony protests. “That is _not_ what my repulsors sound like.”

Phil shoots Darcy a please-refrain-from-playing-with-the-toys look, then gives Tony a now-is-not-the-time-and-is-that-really-very-important look.

Darcy sheepishly sets down the figure. _Sorry_ , she mouths to him.

Tony reaches for his action figure. Darcy slaps his hand away. “Pay attention to the presenters,” she hisses under her breath.

“Like you’re one to talk,” he whispers, and then Phil turns a truly bland glare upon the two of them, and both of them quiet immediately.

The presenters, frankly, are more boring than they ought to be. They’re showing _toys_ for God’s sake.

“These are the new figures we’ll be releasing in time for Christmas,” says the man in the hideous tie. He unveils them. 

The lady with weird hair says, “We are pleased to be introducing Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Thor Odinsson, Natasha Romanov, and the Hulk.”

Oh. _Bitch_ , Darcy thinks as she watches Bruce’s face fall ever so slightly. She knows how Bruce sometimes feels like the world looks at him and can only see the Hulk. He says that it’s only right, since the Hulk is the one that fights the battles, but Darcy can see through that and she knows that sometimes he just wants to be seen as _Bruce_.

So, yeah. Lady with weird hair? Total bitch. 

And, huh. Maybe she’s glaring at the lady with weird hair or something, because she looks at Darcy with a look of concern, and Coulson, who’s sitting on her right, presses his foot against hers warningly.

So she relaxes in her seat and mentally checks out for the rest of the meeting, barely paying attention to Tony loudly complaining about inaccuracies in the toys. (“Natasha’s butt is way bigger than that. Also Steve’s hair is the wrong color and...”) She’s beginning to get an idea, and it’s the harmless sort of idea that Jane would probably approve of.

*          *          *

“What do you _mean_ you don’t carry the Bruce Banner figure?” Darcy says into her phone. “No, I don’t want the Hulk. I already _have_ three versions of the Hulk. I _want_ Bruce Banner.” (It’s not a lie that she already has three versions of the Hulk. She also has five Captain Americas, three Iron Mans, three Thors, two Black Widows and four Hawkeyes. It’s sort of become a weird hobby for her, collecting these figurines.)

The kid on the other end of the line sounds distinctly annoyed with her as he explains that there simply isn’t demand for Bruce Banner. Bruce Banner is human and science-y and _boring_ , he says. And the Hulk is big and green and not boring. 

“Bruce isn’t boring, you dick,” Darcy says, then hangs up abruptly. She’s frustrated because the guy was a dumbass and they didn’t have a Bruce figurine and this is already the fifth store she’s called. 

She looks up, and Phil is staring at her. They’re sitting in Phil’s office, Phil at his desk and Darcy on the couch with a clipboard.

“You okay?” he asks mildly.

“Yeah,” Darcy says, sighing. 

“All right, then,” he says, and hands her some more forms to review.

“You know,” he says presently, when the silence in the air gets too thick, “You should try this little shop in Queens. They always have the obscure figurines.”

“And collector’s edition mint-condition trading cards?” Darcy teases, but she writes down the store’s number when Phil gives it to her.

*          *          *

“Oh my god,” Darcy says. “You _actually_ have some Bruce Banner figurines? How many?”

The puzzled girl on the other end says that they have seven different models at the moment.

“I’ll buy them all from you,” Darcy says instantly. Because apparently it’s not like these figurines grow on trees, and _seven_ different Bruce figures? Fucking awesome. Also, her third paycheck has just hit the bank and S.H.I.E.L.D. pays her quite well.

The girl sounds even more shocked, if that’s possible, and asks Darcy if she wants to come pick them up or if she wants them shipped.

“I’ll come get them,” Darcy says. “What time are you guys closed?”

The girl says nine. Darcy checks the time. 7:12. Plenty of time.

“I’ll be there in about half an hour,” Darcy says before she hangs up.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Darcy says in a sing-song voice. “Do you think I can borrow the red Lamborghini?”

There is a pause. Then, “Sir has not forbidden such a thing, Miss Lewis.”

“He loves me,” Darcy says. Which is true. Tony is very fond of Darcy, and that may or may not have something to do with the fact that Darcy brings Tony coffee and cake pops at least twice a week.

“The keys are hanging on the wall by the car,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

“ _Awesome_ ,” Darcy says cheerfully. “Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

*          *          *

The girl at the counter recognizes Darcy right away. “Oh my god,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re that girl who was at the movies with the arrow guy. Are you guys dating?”

Darcy frowns. “First of all,” she says. “The arrow guy’s name is Clint. And no, we’re not dating. Also, you can call me Darcy.”

“What’s it like living with the Avengers?” the girl asks, sounding awed.

Darcy thinks about it for a moment. “Like living with anyone else,” she says. “Except with small explosions and really, _really_ high tech coffee machines.”

The girl (her name tag says Amber) looks like she has more questions, but Darcy cuts her off. “Um, can I have those Bruce Banner figures now?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Amber says. “Sorry.”

She ducks behind the counter and straightens back up with her arms full of little boxes. “Here you go,” she says. “Are you sure you want all of them?”

“Absolutely,” Darcy says, handing Amber her credit card. She looks at the charge and winces inwardly, because yeah, she has money to spare now, but years of college and grad school have ingrained a sense of fuck-that’s-a-lot-of-money for any amount above five dollars.

“Can I ask why you want them?” Amber says, bagging the boxes. “No one ever wants Bruce Banner.”

Which totally isn’t how Amber meant it, obviously, but Darcy bristles a little nonetheless. “I do,” she says a little coldly. 

Amber plainly senses the change in Darcy’s mood and stumbles over herself trying to apologize, so Darcy relents and says, “No, no, it’s fine,” because she isn’t a complete bitch.

Amber says, “Feel free to come back anytime you feel like it!”

Darcy gives her a smile, says “Thanks!” and leaves the store, feeling very accomplished.

*          *          *

“Um,” Darcy says.

Tony is waiting for her in the garage, standing in the Lamborghini’s spot with his arms crossed.

She’s a little worried that he’s angry, but then his face splits into a grin and he says, “She handles like a dream, doesn’t she?”

And Darcy, relieved, assures Tony that she did, indeed, handle like a dream.

“Just maybe ask next time,” Tony says as she parks.

“All right,” Darcy agrees.

*          *          *

In her room, Darcy sits cross-legged on her bed and examines the figures. There’s one where Bruce is holding a test tube, and another where he’s dressed in a lab coat and holding a clipboard. Her favorite is the one that’s holding a tiny stuffed Hulk. The one that she thinks Bruce will like best, however, is dressed like he was when he came back to fight the Chitauri and is riding a little scooter-motorcycle-whatever-the-fuck-that-thing-was-that-Bruce-rode-back. 

He’ll like it, she knows, because it’s the moment he really and truly became part of the Avengers team, the moment when he returned to fight a battle that he didn’t have to return to, but _did_. 

Because, Darcy thinks, everyone remembers the Hulk smashing the Chitauri and Loki, but nobody remembers that Bruce Banner was the one that chose to come back.

So the disheveled figurine on the motor-scooter-bike, that’s the one she takes to Bruce’s room.

When he sees her at his door, he looks a little puzzled. “Darcy,” he says. “Hi.”

She’s holding the box behind her back. “Are you going to invite me in or what?” 

“Come on in,” Bruce says, still sounding confused. “You’re always welcome, you know that. What are you holding?”

She spins around once they’re in his living room, presenting him with the figurine. “I got this for you,” she says.

He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to say as he reaches for the box.

He takes it from her, and the look on his face sort of breaks Darcy’s heart. “What’s this?” he says finally, softly.

“Um,” Darcy says, avoiding his eyes. “It’s a Bruce Banner action figure. Because, you know, heroes deserve to have action figures. And the Hulk isn’t the only one that’s a hero.”

Bruce looks like maybe he wants to cry, and Darcy doesn’t really want that. So she steps forward and reaches around him, pulling him close into a hug. 

He stiffens for a moment, then returns the hug.

Before she lets him go, she whispers, “Don’t forget that you’re a hero, too,” into his ear.

When she steps back from him, she is pleased to see that a small smile has crossed Bruce’s face. “Thanks, Darcy,” he says. “Really.”

She grins at him. “If you like it,” she says. “I have six more in my room.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Lamborghini I envisioned is the Aventador J, which is totally gorgeous. 
> 
> Also, I really don't understand how I end up writing about Darcy. It just happens.


End file.
